


Peach

by gunmetalgray



Category: Marvel, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Oneshot, Other, oral fixiation, peachy goodness, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 17:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16896972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunmetalgray/pseuds/gunmetalgray
Summary: Peaches are your favorite after all.





	Peach

* * *

 

There is something relaxing about the unbearable humid summer nights when slumped on the table bench, gaze staring at particular nothingness.

There is something pleasing about teeth sinking into the juciy flesh of a sweet summer delight.

And there is definitely something about the way the golden rosy sunsets illuminate the room. 

 

A peachy goodness drips on his chin and stickens up the inner side of his wrist. Pink stripes of light accentuate the dewiness of his skin, his neat silver hair, his plush lips.

Soft footsteps echo behind him. In a hurry you open the fridge in a search of any liquid. The yellow light steals his attention and he takes in the way the t-shirt hangs loose on your silhouette and the way the thigh-highs sit unevenly scrunched up.

A bottle of water pops open. His eyes follow the movement of your throat as you gulp the cold liquid. Head tilted back, hand pushed up and the slight lift of the tee reveal the naked skin beneath making him bite a bit too hard into the fruit.

You sigh and lean on the now closed fridge door, cool metal soothing overheated skin. Crossing your legs as you leave the bottle on the kitchenstand you notice how shiny and plump his lips look. He glares hungrily at you and sucks on the peach in the same manor. He squeezes it a bit too hard getting a few more droplets travel down his hand. Your gaze mirrors his. Slanting your head slightly to the side a frown bestows your face and growl breaks the quiet.

He lifts a brow at the sound. A silent invitation that draws you in front of him. The peach now out of his grip and on the table. Your finger trails the line of juice as you place a knee between his legs. The taste of it elicits a moan. His fingers on your lips lining them, gently patting for permission between them. Your tongue swirls around them as he bites then licks his own lips. He scarps up your thigh to cup on your ass, his suspicion confirmed - bare beneath. Another moan and he shivers and gulps. Your hands on his hips, fingers scarping under the waistband.

The air becomes heavy and suffocating. Eye contact not broken, his pants come off as he swirls his fingers in your mouth yet again. Legs parted to straddle him, the stickiness between them coating him and easing up the hip roll. The hand on your face grips your neck as you sink on him slowly. With his mouth slightly open you ride him slow and hard, crickets and TV white noise fill the quiet and so do the soft mewls and pants.

A sticky forhead with a few strands of hair stuck to it catch your eye so you comb them behind his ear then cup his head and smooch him, gently stealing the sour sweet taste. 

Bouncing gets shallow and hard, his hands clenched on the bench, your lips hover over his, another thick moan escapes you as he pants into your open mouth. You clench around him and pull him over the edge with you, his mouth forming a silent ‘oh’.

Leaning back on his elbows and sighing contently he smiles warmly as the rosy light lets him see you are wearing a faded black tee, a little ripped and rough around the edges, his favorite tee.

He bites his lip then mischievously grins when sticky lines run down your things and over the rim of your socks. He lays back to close his eyes as the pure bliss fades away. When the shivers begin he sits up to look at you just one more time.

 

No bottle on the kitchenstand.

No half-eaten peach on the table.

Cool neon street haze peaks through the blinds and replaces the rosiness of the sunset. The cold dry air and the icy sweat bring shivers. His huffs a visible mist. The mess in his pants still wet.

He sprints under a jet of icy water. A painful shower yanks his mind back to reality. Every single part of him aches pleading for numbness.

 

The cruel silence screams at him.

 

Shaking he falls naked on the rigid bed. His gaze lands on the lonely item on his nightstand.

He stares at the half-used perfume.

A spritz on the pillow will bring peace for the night. 

 

Peaches are your favorite after all.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> transferred from tumblr


End file.
